Why am I in this human frame That is at birth given a name? Isn‘t this name only a handle And this body but a ‗brief candle‘? If the body is my true abode Then why does it feel like a load That I have to drag around And keep above the ground? In poor health we often feel As if we‘ve made a bad deal Had we known of the pain on earth Would we have consented to our birth? Even in good health this form Must to nature‘s laws conform And this world, with its confines, Many a great plan undermines Why do we ever dream about flying When we have to think about dying? Why dream about love, joy, and peace When conflict never seems to cease? Well, no one gets out alive From this smoke-filled dive And if there‘s a reason to be here I hope it will soon be made clear Can we in the end redeem Energy used on a vain scheme? Or do all our efforts become dust As all we build and buy turns to rust? Surely, behind all our outward plans, Is a hidden purpose that still stands And despite our stumbling and detours There is some good work that endures So, while in this human frame, It should be our continual aim To act in a way that is good for all And to get back up when we fall For when we do err We need not despair For there will always be the One Who‘s more reliable than the sun And death is not the end of our way For it only conceals a doorway That opens to welcome our soul As it unites in bliss with the Whole
Posted on: Sat, 17 Jan 2015 12:34:51 +0000
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